The Malfoy's Secret
by MiaKitty
Summary: 'A muggle and blood traitor's daughter will decide the second war's fate. Her loyalty is the key to victory.' Adopted by the Malfoys, Neomi is tortured daily as Lucius tries to force her to follow his lord. But Draco has plans to help her escape...
1. The Torture

Neomi fought the urge to scream as the pain tore through her again. She'd lost count of the curses her 'father' had cast on her, lost track of the time he'd spent doing it. If she had the ability to fight back, they'd all be dead. Never one to care for violence, she would gladly kill every person in the room, the sick, sadistic bunch who watched her torture with uncaring eyes. All but Bellatrix. Her eyes laughed at Neomi.

_'Her first, if I ever make it out of here.'_

Normally, Lucius' eyes would have been dancing as well, but he was under considerable pressure from his master. The Dark Lord was growing impatient. _'The girl must be made to follow,'_ he'd hissed. _'She must be ours!'_ Neomi would laugh if she were capable of it. This was their idea of convincing her that their side must be victorious? She might be a child, but she wasn't an idiot. They only wanted her to join them because of the prophecy. Of all the things for Voldemort to believe, he had an almost obsessive conviction in the truth of prophecies.

Neomi had never heard the prophecy that had sealed her fate, but she knew the highlights. The daughter of a muggle and a blood traitor would decide the fate of the second war. The victory of either side was dependent on her alliance. Should she follow the Chosen One, he would defeat the Dark Lord, but if she should chose the Dark Lord, he would defeat the Chosen One and reign supreme.

The Dark Lord heard of this just before he went to kill Harry Potter. Before, he'd been certain that he would defeat the child, but this had convinced him that he needed a backup plan. Namely, the girl the prophecy spoke of. And so, as he went to seal his own fate, he told his most trusted Death Eaters (Lucius and Narcissa, as it would happen, an irony that wasn't lost on her now) to find the child and make her into one of their own. So they had spent a good portion of the time immediately following his 'death' looking for such a child.

Her father, a wizard who she'd seen in photos but knew nothing about, had gone missing at around the same time the Dark Lord had fallen. Her mother had sealed him away in her memory, never speaking of him except to tell Neomi that he'd have been a good father if he'd had the chance. Sarah had learned of her pregnancy two weeks after the last time the child's father had vanished. She'd raised her daughter in the muggle world, telling her that her powers must be hidden. For all she knew, the one her boyfriend had been so afraid of was still in power, and he would find her and her daughter and kill them. She'd remained unknown to the wizarding world until she was seven. That year, her mother had taken ill. She'd passed away quietly in the night, while her daughter slept in the chair next to her hospital bed. Neomi had been placed in an orphanage.

Tormented by her mother's death, her powers had manifested without warning, without her intention for them to do so. It started small; someone who teased her would trip, a missing toy would appear on her bed. But the incidents became more obvious and occurred more often, and the wizarding world took notice. Her orphanage was notified of her powers, a common practice at the time. In addition to this, she was added to a list of orphans seeking wizarding parents.

The Malfoys had been scouring that archive for years, looking for a child. Upon seeing her photo, they were almost certain that they knew the identity of her father. They arrived at the orphanage and asked to see her. Neomi, just a child at the time, was delighted to meet people who could do tricks, like she could. She told them that her mother wasn't magic but her father was. It was all the convincing they needed. The adoption papers were signed and she became Neomi Malfoy.

At the time, she'd been so happy. The thought caused her to smirk ever so slightly, something she regretted a moment later when Lucius cursed her again. Still, she managed not to scream or cry.

"Lucius," Bellatrix cooed, "you've been at it for over an hour." She slid off the table she'd been sitting on, and walked up to Neomi, grabbing her face cruelly. "Surely our little girl has seen our point of view by now…"

In response, Neomi spat in her face. Her aunt reeled back, hissing.

"You little brat!" she screamed, pulling her wand. "Crucio!"

At the curse, Neomi flinched ever so slightly, but fought the urge to make a sound. Lucius rolled his eyes, the most he'd seemed like himself in months.

"Bella," he sighed, "she is defiant. It's likely in her blood, considering her father. If she could be convinced by kind words we'd have done so long ago."

Neomi snorted in disbelief, earning herself another curse. "When have you ever used kind words to woo me, _father?_' She spat the last word, speaking more than she had during the entire session.

Lucius sighed again. "Neomi, we tried. When we brought you here, we showed you all we could offer-"

"You tortured me for five minutes my first night here because I asked where the telly was! I was 7; I'd been raised by muggles! What the bloody hell did you expect?"

Before he could respond, the room grew silent and tense. Neomi didn't have to look to know who had entered the room.

"Neomi, my child," his voice hissed. It was meant to soothe, she knew, but it made her skin crawl. "Your suffering will stop. You need only say that you will support our efforts in the war. Just a few words and you will be free to roam the house as you once did; you will be fed, cared for. A bath will be drawn. All you have to do is say it…"

Neomi forced her eyes to the Dark Lord's red gaze, refusing to be afraid.

"Go to hell."

When the curse hit her, she was already braced, but it didn't stop the faintest of whimpers from making its way out. Unlike Lucius, Voldemort held it steady, continuing the pain for what seemed like forever. When it finally stopped, she felt as though her ears were stuffed with cotton.

She could hear him giving orders to someone, but couldn't understand the words. She felt a familiar set of arms wrap around her, lift her up. She was carried out of the room and down, into the basement. He spoke to her, whispering, but nothing made sense. A set of silver blue eyes met hers, sympathy in them, as he locked her in one of the cells. She barely made out the words 'I'm sorry' on his lips before she passed out.


	2. Dreaming of Escape

Neomi woke up slowly, painfully. Everything hurt, her head most of all. Even with the low lights of the basement, her eyes burned the moment she opened them. She squinted, letting them adjust to the light slowly, like a person getting into a cold pool a step at the time. She groaned a little and held her head in her hands, rubbing her temples.

"They did quite a number on you this time."

Neomi glanced at Draco out of the corner of her eye. "No more so than usual," she replied testily. He looked her over, sighing. She acted like it was no big deal, but he knew better. She was slipping more and more every day. He'd been outside during most of her 'sessions,' as they called them. In the first days of her imprisonment, she'd given no reaction to their torture, their taunts. But as it wore on, she'd started getting angry.

"They expect me to follow them when they hurt me," she spat, as if she were reading his mind. "Why would anyone choose to follow someone who hurt them?"

Draco shifted a little uncomfortably. His loyalty was with her, with his sister, but for all they knew, that was precisely why he did their bidding. "To make it stop," he said simply. When his parents had first brought Neomi home, she'd been more than happy to do what they said, just so they'd be nice. After the incident with the television, she'd learned that if she wanted to like her new home, she needed to do what they said. At the time, it hadn't been a big deal. She just had to stay quiet, behave. Act like a good little girl. But as time wore on, things changed. They started trying to train her to be a Death Eater, like them. But she fought them on it. She'd been raised by a muggle, a mother who'd loved her. Nothing would make her choose to hurt people like her mother, particularly not people who were proven to be less than preferable company in comparison.

She wasn't the only one who'd realized the wrongness of their behavior. Even a child raised by purebloods could recognize that there was nothing that made the torture of a young girl acceptable, particularly not because she'd asked a simple question. After that day, Draco had aligned himself with her, trying to protect his new little sister from his parents. When it was time for him to go away to school, he'd made himself into a school bully to distract the Malfoy's from her less than acceptable behavior. By the time she was also in attendance, he was the most hated member of the Slytherin house, and, as far as anyone knew, proud arch-rival of Harry Potter.

Now, protecting her was more difficult than running interference. The most he could hope to accomplish was to be the one guarding her cell so that she wasn't being tortured in between the sessions scheduled by the Dark Lord. Every time he had to stand outside the door while his father cursed her was a mark on his soul. And recently, it'd been worse. They'd started to break her. She no longer spent her sessions in silence. On her better days, she talked back. On her worst days, she whimpered. She was strong, of course. She'd lasted longer than many. But Draco knew that this was in part because they had been given orders not to truly harm her, orders that almost made Draco snort with the irony of it. In Voldemort's eyes, if she was lucid, they had not hurt her. So long as she wasn't insane, they hadn't hurt her.

He wasn't fooled, nor was his sister. Voldemort's restriction wasn't out of concern for Neomi. He pretended to care, but only so that she would think him benevolent, something he failed at. His real motive was more than obvious. If she were driven to the point of insanity, she would never be able to support his efforts, never be able to fulfill the prophecy.

Still, his request that they not drive her insane didn't have the same power it had in the first days. Bellatrix was growing bored, and his parents were growing desperate. Draco knew they were one session of their own from torturing her until she broke for good. The Dark Lord wasn't known for being kind or understanding. Every session that they failed, his father took the heat. Not that Draco was concerned for his father, but he knew that if Lucius broke before Neomi, Bellatrix would be the next to step up. At least Lucius had incentive to make her turn; if she didn't, it was his ass. But Bellatrix was a cruel woman. Draco knew for a fact that she got sick pleasure out of being tortured by her master, in addition to the enjoyment she got out of doing the torturing herself. Furthermore, she never turned down an opportunity to prove her loyalty.

"If I join him, he won't stop hurting me," Neomi said, pulling Draco from his contemplation. "Every time Lucius fails, he tortures him, sometimes worse than they do to me. And we've all heard Wormtail's screams. Despite being the one who enabled his return, the Dark Lord treats him like…" she trailed off, not knowing what to say.

"Vermin," Draco filled in. She nodded in agreement.

"I'm not a fool. I'd rather they drive me insane, or kill me. At least then I'll be beyond pain." At this, Draco scowled. She'd been getting like that lately, caring little for her own life. She'd told him after her worst session that she just wanted it to end. But Draco wanted more for her. She'd lived a short life, but she knew more suffering than most senior citizens. If she'd lived as a muggle, with her mother, she'd never had needed to worry about these things. Instead, it wasn't a worry; it was a fact.

A week ago, she'd shed a tear. On that tear, he'd vowed that he would get her out of here.

"Neomi," he whispered, "when it's all over, what do you want to do?" It was a game they'd played a lot of late. They'd spent the majority of her time in the basement making plans, talking about things they wanted to do and places they wanted to see. She thought it was a nice diversion, but Draco was secretly keeping track of everything she said. He had no intention of letting her die.

"I want… to visit America," she smiled. "Texas. The Lone Star State." It was her deepest desire, he knew. A silly wish, most people would think. It certainly wasn't New York, or LA, or any of the other places in America considered worth seeing. But her mother had been from Texas, visiting Britain on a scholarship to study abroad. Neomi had always wanted to go there, to visit her mother's hometown. She thought she might have family there. "And I want to find out who my father was."

In all her years in the Malfoy home, she'd never discovered her father's identity. Lucius had never spoke of him, beyond cursing him for being a blood traitor and telling Neomi there was no reason she should suffer for his mistake. Draco had never been trusted enough to be told. As far as he knew, he was the only Death Eater not privy to the information. All he knew, from the snippets of information he'd heard, was that the man was dead. It was hardly enough to identify him; most blood traitors were dead. Those who were alive were usually families who'd betrayed their line long ago, but the prophecy had implied the father was the direct traitor, which meant he could be any number of people. Neomi's birthday opened up a timeline for when he'd died, but there were still plenty of men who'd been killed in that time.

"We'll figure it out, Mi. And we'll go to Texas, and you'll meet all your mom's old friends. And you'll track down anyone who might be a link to your father, and they'll tell you everything you would ever want to know about him."

At Draco's insistence, she gave him a sad little smile. He knew that she didn't believe him. She was certain she'd die in this place, that eventually, they'd drive her insane or go insane themselves waiting for her to join them. Either way, she'd die. As far as she was concerned, it was only a matter of time. But Draco was taking steps, putting things into motion that he knew would save her. At the moment, the ball wasn't in his court, but he could be patient as long as she held out.

"I'm getting you out of here, Neomi. I promise." He grabbed her hand through the bars, and she smiled again.

"I know."


	3. Narcissa Knows

Neomi drifted off to sleep after a while, and Draco saw her true pain. As her sleep got deeper, she started fidgeting more and more, making small whining noises and the occasional shriek. He knew that she was having nightmares. She tried to hide it from him, but the truth was that she couldn't lie once she fell asleep. Every night she spent crying out in remembered pain just strengthened his resolve to get her out of here.

At the sound of someone coming down the stairs to the basement, Draco pulled his hand from through the bars, where it'd been resting on her hand. As his mother entered the room, he met her gaze coolly.

"Yes, mother? Is there something you need?" He kept his voice aloof and respectful, barely containing his anger. His mother was many things, but she had never been truly cruel until recently. She'd confided in him that she'd never cared for being a Death Eater, that she'd only taken the mark so that Lucius would be happy after he expressed a desire to do so. She'd spent the first war sitting in her husband's shadow, killing only when Voldemort insisted she do so. In his early life, she'd been a kind and caring mother, giving him whatever he wanted. Whenever Lucius would punish Neomi for something, she would be sure the girl got enough to eat and got a bath.

Of late, however, that small kindness seemed to have died out of her. She certainly wasn't the fanatical follower her sister was, but she hardly batted an eyelash at her orders, no matter what they were. The last of his respect for her had died when Lucius' torture of Neomi hadn't satisfied their master and she'd been asked to take over. Without the slightest hesitation, she'd made Neomi, a girl she'd called her daughter, whimper. His father's sessions had never made her make a noise, but Narcissa had forced the smallest sound from her. When he'd asked her why, she'd replied that she'd done it for him, that he was weak and would have been unable to do it, which would have been the Dark Lord's next request.

She'd said that the brat had to suffer so that he wouldn't.

Narcissa was the only person who knew the truth of him, that he hated Neomi's torture and wanted to save her. She wasn't aware that he didn't wish to follow the Dark Lord, of course. He would be dead if she did. Snape had spent a good deal of time at Hogwarts teaching Draco to resist Voldemort's Legilimency for that very reason. But she did know that he loved his sister and wanted to protect her. For that reason, he would tread lightly with her, worried she would see his plans in his eyes.

"I only wanted to come relieve you for a while. You need to eat," she replied, casting a suspicious look on him for his tone.

He wasn't fooled. She'd come down to get him away from Neomi. She kept trying to separate them, as if some time away would make him realize that she wasn't worth his affection.

"I'm not hungry, mother. I was brought food while you and father were with Neomi earlier," he replied smoothly. Luckily, this was true. Otherwise it would mean he hadn't eaten for over two days. But one of the so called lesser Death Eaters had brought him food while he waited for them to finish with her.

"Ah. Well, still. You should at the very least go upstairs a while, perhaps take a walk outside. You've been cooped up in here for days, Draco. You need to get out of this dismal place," she said, her eyes looking over the basement with scorn. Ironic, since it was a room in her own home.

"So does Neomi, but I don't see you offering to take her outside," he shot back, losing his composure for a moment.

She responded with an angry sigh. "Draco, you know that she cannot be taken away from this room unless under the Dark Lord's orders. She is a prisoner. And furthermore, you shouldn't care so much for her. You're going to get yourself thrown in with her if you don't cease this ridiculous affection," she retorted.

He decided he wouldn't argue. Best case scenario, they continued to argue and he became incredibly angry. Worst case, someone else overheard and he was reported as being a traitor for his compassion. Rather, he stared at the wall beyond her until she left.

After Narcissa closed the door at the top of the stairs, Neomi stirred.

"I can't believe she used to heal my bruises and trained Dobby to take care of me behind Lucius' back," she murmured, shaking her head, in part from sleepiness and in part in response to his mother.

"Agreed," he sighed, holding his head in his hand. "Neomi, we need to get you out of here," he said for the hundredth time.

She nodded, smiling a little sadly, a little mockingly. He was aware that she didn't believe he could save her. In her mind, she was just waiting for them to get sick of it and kill her. There had been speculation that if she didn't ever actively fight for either side, neither side would technically have her support and the prophecy would be void. Thus far Voldemort wasn't buying it, but he wasn't a patient man. They all knew it was only a matter of time before he decided they were right and killed her. She was just waiting for that.

"It'll be over soon, Draco," she said, reminding him of that very fact. "They'll kill me, and Harry will win. They're wrong about me needing to fight. I just have to know who I want to win. And I'm going to die wanting the Dark Lord to die. And it'll all be over." The thought made her smile, but he wanted to cry. She was so ready to die, just for it to end. She wasn't even willing to fight anymore.

He knew that's why she was being so defiant lately during the sessions. She was deliberately trying to piss them off, to make them angry so they'd kill her sooner. Her every barb was designed to hit them where it hurt. Lucius was ashamed he'd never managed to make her see their side, as he put it, so she reminded him of that fact every chance she got. Bellatrix thought herself to be better than the rest, the Dark Lord's favorite and most worthy follower, so she would constantly remind her of his obvious trust and preference for Snape. This particular bit of taunting was particularly satisfying for her, he knew, because she was one of the only living people who knew the truth.

Still, Draco wasn't as willing as she was to let her die. She was the only thing in his life that made him feel like a good person. Every terrible thing he'd done could be justified because he'd been trying to protect her. In his attempts to do so, he'd alienated himself from anyone worth knowing at school. If they killed her, he'd be a failure, and a lonely one at that. His entire life would be for nothing if he couldn't save her.

"No," he said. "You're not going to die. I won't let you," he said. Even now, he knew how they were getting out. He just had to wait for the pieces to fall into place…


	4. The Headmaster's Role

Sitting in the Headmaster's Chamber at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Severus Snape rubbed his temples, scowling. He hated this act, this character he had to play. Today, one of the Carrows had tortured the Longbottom boy for refusing to participate in a class exercise. While he, the headmaster, had sat in his office, unable to do anything about it without tipping off the Death Eaters of his true self.

He had to admit, he was impressed by the boy's newfound resilience.

Beyond this most recent matter, however, he had another, perhaps more pressing concern. His most recent trip to Malfoy Manor had not made him feel any better about what was occurring there. He'd hoped that young Neomi would lie to the Dark Lord and offer her allegiance so that she could escape, but she refused. Now they had to rely on Draco's harebrained scheme, one which he knew could work, but he knew it was dicey at best. It relied on the boy's acting ability, something which remained untested. Snape didn't count pretending to be an ass during his school years as acting, and he hadn't really been doing so since the Death Eaters had moved into his home. He'd mostly stayed in the basement with the girl. Whenever he was upstairs, he stood around and glared sullenly at everyone.

It was hardly a performance worthy of any note.

Still, it was their last shot, unfortunately. They were running out of options. The last he'd heard of the girl, she'd been starting to talk back while they tortured her. It wasn't a good sign. It meant she was starting to crack, something that they couldn't allow. Regardless of her position in the war and the purported prophecy, Neomi was one of the few truly good souls he'd ever known. The girl had refused to do so much as use the term mudblood at Lucius' behest; even knowing it would mean pain for her.

She could very well have been Lily's daughter, if he really thought about it. She wasn't, of course. But the two were so alike in their convictions that he could clearly imagine it. If things had turned out better the first time around, Lily would likely have spoiled the girl. He couldn't imagine Neomi being kinder, but Lily would have made her so.

He leaned forward on the desk, resting his face on his knuckles, thumbs out under his chin and the first finger pointing out. He sighed ever so slightly as he heard the tell-tale clicking of Minerva McGonagall's heels as she came up the stairs. He glanced back into the eyes of Dumbledore's portrait, meeting the ex-headmaster's painted gaze before drawing his face into its usual apathetic expression and looking forward. She entered the office scowling.

"What on Earth could you possibly want, _Headmaster_?" She sneered as she said the word. Of all the remaining professors, she was the one who was the biggest thorn in his side. If she knew the truth of him, he liked to think that she would understand the position he'd found himself in. He hoped that she would believe him and be willing to help.

"Minerva," he began carefully, "I find myself in a situation where your… insight could possibly be of use." _I want you to tell me that you know where Harry Potter is. _

She glared at him, inclining her head ever so slightly. She was suspicious. He'd known she would be.

"What situation would that be, Severus?" Her voice was cold, the characteristic lilt breaking ever so slightly.

"You see, Minerva," he replied, not bothering to correct her use of his name. If it helped her to feel that they were on more even footing, he could make the small concession. Besides, he didn't much feel worthy of the title. Dumbledore, for all his faults, had been a great man. And Severus had been put in the position to move forward the Dark Lord's agenda.

"I find myself in need of… not the information itself, I certainly would prefer not to have it, in fact. But I know someone who is in need of it. And I should like to know if there is anyone who could, perhaps, pass it along to this individual."

He had to tread lightly. Speaking in code was not necessarily a requirement, but he was rather afraid to spell it out. It was highly unlikely that Voldemort would ever hear of anything that occurred within the office walls, but he could never be too careful. This was likely the safest place for this conversation, but he still was hesitant to simply come out and say what he needed.

Her eyes sharpened. "What information could you possibly want from _me_? I have been here since term has started. I know nothing of anything occurring beyond these walls," she told him.

She was lying, he knew. Though he doubted that she knew much at all, she had to know something. Of all the people here, she was the one most trusted. The Order's unofficial second in command and the person who should have been named Dumbledore's successor, it made no sense that she should be kept in the dark. Particularly not when one considered the fact that, despite the presence of Death Eaters in the castle, this was still one of the safest places to be. Here, within Hogwart's hallowed halls, its students were relatively safe. They could be tortured for insolence, but never killed. Outside they would be killed.

"A former student has come to me with concerns as to the wellbeing of his sister," he began, knowing Minerva would know who he was talking about. "He has wishes to extract her from their current location and have her brought to people who would protect her."

"You are speaking of the Malfoy girl, I presume," she replied, a statement rather than a question.

"Precisely. Now, I know that you are one of the few people aware of young Neomi's place in all this mess. So you understand the importance of getting her to the right people-"

"As if I would ever help you bring one of them into the folds of the resistance!" she shouted, catching herself too late. "If it were possible for me to do so, of course," she added in an attempt to cover her tracks.

Snape arched a brow. "Minerva, you remember what she was like, don't you? Stubborn, strong. Resilient. Whatever makes you think she would be a danger?" he asked, attempting to smooth her over. This required delicacy, and time that they did not have.

"She is a Malfoy," McGonagall said simply.

"You know better than most that she is not. You know the truth of her identity. I personally informed you of it on her first day of school. When you questioned the presence of a second Malfoy child at the feast, I told you who she is. When you questioned my knowledge, Dumbledore confirmed it. And yet you think, knowing her history and the identity of her father, that she can be swayed by them?"

"She has been with them for many months now. Whatever would make me think she was not doing _his_ bidding?"

"She is strong, as I said. She has not been seen because he and his people are trying to sway her. They have not been able to. But she is growing weak. Not in resolve, but in mind and body. Draco… and I, we both fear that she will soon either die or succumb to madness. If she is not saved, she will be another victim of the Dark Lord's insane war," Snape told her, a tear forming. There were few people in this world he cared for. The Dark Lord had taken Lily from this plane. He would not take her too.

McGonagall's eyes widened at the sight of the tear, her gaze locked on it.

"You are truly worried. You, who are known to be his right hand man, are contemplating a second betrayal, to save the life of this girl? Dumbledore's life was worth nothing to you, and yet you ask me to help you save her?"

"Minerva, I… It was an order. Dumbledore was dying. You know as well as I that he makes plans, sets them into motion to further his agenda. He asks things of us that we find repugnant but dare not refuse. Had I not done it, he would have died just the same, and Potter would not be in a position to end this." Snape felt a sense of intense relief at being able to tell her this, at being able to tell someone. Having to kill Dumbledore, even at the man's request, had weighed heavily on his soul.

Minerva gazed into his eyes, unsure of whether or not to believe him. He had fooled them all, had made them trust him and then betrayed them all. Even if his story about the truth of Dumbledore's death were true, it didn't explain why he allowed the occurrences at the school. Though, if she were honest, it could be part of the plan. He had to act as the loyal servant and allow these atrocities, or reveal his true colors and risk everything.

"I believe you, Severus," she said, scarcely believing that the words were coming out of her mouth. "What do you need to know?"


	5. Getting Out

Neomi woke up a couple weeks later, her mind groggy and her limbs aching. They'd been getting more brutal with the torture. Yesterday Bellatrix had decided that the Crutiatus Curse wasn't doing enough and used a knife on her. She'd carved words into her arms and legs, words like mudblood and filth and blood traitor that were supposed to shame Neomi. She'd cut them deep and they Death Eaters wouldn't heal them, so they would scar.

Neomi intended to wear them like a badge of honor.

She glanced around the small basement, rubbing her temples gently, and yawned ever so slightly. Her stomach growled, and she clenched her teeth. The past few days, they'd only been feeding her as much as was necessary, hoping that the constant hunger and belly ache would force her hand. She'd laughed and told them about how after a while, the same pain gets old.

That was why Bellatrix had used the knife, she knew. But there was nothing she could do about it now. She sighed and rubbed her stomach, scowling. It did hurt pretty badly. She couldn't help but wish that Dobby were there to sneak her a meal. But, Harry Potter had set him free four or so years ago. She missed that little elf, though. He was her only friend, other than Draco.

Thinking of Draco, she looked around, confused to find that he wasn't there. Instead, Professor Snape was standing in the basement, watching her carefully. When she looked at him, his lips thinned ever so slightly.

"I take it the nightmares are getting worse?"

She frowned at him. She didn't want anyone to know just how much they were getting to her, not even people on her side. It was bad enough that Draco knew, but now Snape had been down here long enough to see just how bad it was as well?

"Where is Draco?" she asked, ignoring his question. He sighed and inclined his head ever so slightly.

"Not here, obviously. He will be back shortly. In the meantime, I am here to watch you in his stead."

Almost as if on cue, the door at the top of the stairs opened and someone began down them. She was about to smile when it wasn't Draco, but Lucius who came down into the basement. At least, she thought it was Lucius, but there was something ever so slightly off about him. It was his face, his body, his clothes, but something was different. Neomi gasped as she saw his eyes.

"Draco, is that you?" she asked, not stopping to think that if it were anyone else, she'd be screwed.

Luckily, the man smiled a very familiar smile and nodded. "Yeah. Cooked up a Polyjuice Potion to spring you, sis." He looked at Snape. "So, what's our reason for taking her out of the house?" he asked him, looking at the watch on his wrist.

Snape gave an annoyed sigh. "The Dark Lord is travelling and wants her to be placed somewhere with someone he can trust. You, that is, Lucius, are incompetent and cannot be trusted to break her. I have taught the girl and I am his second in command, so the duty falls to me. Obviously, in order to keep up my position as Headmaster, I must remain at Hogwarts, and so shall she. Really, Mr. Malfoy, you should have had this planned weeks ago."

Draco/Lucius gave a look to match Snape's tone. "Well, excuse me. It was my plan to begin with, wasn't it? I didn't hear any clever ideas from you. So what if I didn't think it all out, you're better at that than I am."

Snape's eyes grew a degree colder, and his scowl deepened. "It is your plan and therefore your responsibility to come up with each step. Now, we're wasting time. This won't last forever, you know. We need to get you both out of here."

Snape pointed to the lock on the door and cast a spell to open it. When the door swung open, he came in and grabbed Neomi's shoulder, tight. She winced.

"This has to look real," he explained, an apology in his voice. He then dug his fingers in and made her stand up with him.

"You're coming with me, you blood traitor brat!" he hissed, just in time to be heard by a group coming down the stairs. Bellatrix and Narcissa both beamed at his rough treatment of the girl. A couple others, whom Snape didn't care to remember the names of, were behind the pair.

"Oh, goody, Severus is getting her ready for today's session," Bellatrix cheered, pulling her knife out of a sheath and licking the blade, a twisted smile on her face.

Snape frowned at Bellatrix, putting all his apathy and superiority into the expression. "I'm afraid not. She's coming with me. We all know that the Dark Lord is travelling these next few weeks. He wanted her in more… capable hands."

At this, Bellatrix glared at him. "Whose hands are more capable than mine, Severus darling? We all know that the torture is my thing. You should keep to your office and such," she sneered, attempting to mock his position as Headmaster.

"I will be sure to inform him that you feel that way, but for now, I am acting on his orders. He has asked me to take the girl to Hogwarts, and so I shall," he replied coolly, daring her to challenge him.

This entire time, Draco/Lucius had been standing silently. Now he stepped forward, looking at his sister in law with a pained, ashamed expression. "'S orders, Bella. We must always do what the Dark Lord asks of us."

Neomi was amazed at how well he had just pulled off acting like his father. Well, the way his father acted more recently, anyway. It was almost a perfect performance, which Neomi supposed made sense considering the fact that he'd lived his whole life under the man's thumb.

The woman sniffed angrily before turning around and stomping up the stairs. Narcissa remained, however, glancing at her 'husband' suspiciously.

"Why was I not informed of this?" she demanded. Ever since Lucius had been sent to Azkaban, Narcissa had taken on a new role as the head of household, a title she'd refused to relinquish when he escaped. Furthermore, Voldemort did believe her to be the more competent of the two, and so often told Narcissa before her husband, if ever. That combined with the fact that she was Lucius' wife made Draco d=fear for the plan. He couldn't be sure that his mother wouldn't notice the difference.

He almost exhaled in relief when she stepped back ever so slightly, smiling.

"Perhaps this means you will be back in the inner circle soon, love. Maybe he believes you are showing initiative," she supplied optimistically.

Snape gave a small chuckle. "If the Dark Lord believed that your husband could be trusted, he would leave the girl with him. Now excuse me, but Lucius and I are taking the child to Hogwarts."

With that, Draco/Lucius smiled a small, sad smile. "He's right, dear, this is just another step back. Don't get any hopes up. In order to retain our former glory, I think we'd have to kill Harry Potter ourselves." With that, he followed Snape and Neomi out of the basement and to the front door.

"Step one, complete," he smiled. They'd gotten her out of the house.

Now to get her as far away from it as possible.


	6. What's the Plan?

Getting her off the grounds of Malfoy Manor was simpler than had been expected. They didn't begin to run into any trouble until they got to the gate, where Fenrir Greyback was keeping watch. The Polyjuice Potion didn't change a person's scent. Neomi hoped that Lucius' clothes would mask Draco's scent and fool the werewolf. In his human form, he shouldn't have a completely inhuman sense of smell, but she had never been sure just how strong it was.

"Where're you takin' 'er, Snape?" he growled, eyeing them suspiciously. He clearly hadn't been given any orders to let them leave with the prisoner, which wasn't surprising, considering that no such orders would have been issued.

"It's all very hush hush, Fenrir." Snape said. "Suffice to say, the Dark Lord is finished with her here and wishes me to keep an eye on her until he returns from his travels. Certain parties…" he let his eyes move significantly towards Draco/Lucius, "cannot be trusted to see to her care in a manner he would approve of."

Fenrir snorted ever so slightly, laughing. "Yeah, I heard that Bellatrix ain't bein' too patient wif 'er lately."

Snape nodded in agreement, a look of distaste on his face. "Yes, among other things. So, I'm relocating her for the time being. She will be moved when he returns according to his wishes."

Fenrir nodded and moved aside, allowing them to pass. He cast an odd look at Draco for a moment, then met Neomi's gaze. She didn't have to fake the terror in her eyes at that moment; of all the people involved with Voldemort, Fenrir was one of the few she really feared. The man was an animal, in the truest sense of the word. He responded to her fear with an evil grin, showing off teeth that had been filed to sharp points. She shuddered ever so slightly as Snape pulled her away.

Once they were officially off Malfoy property, Snape apparated them away, landing them in the middle of a forest that Neomi couldn't say she recognized. She glanced at the two of them, frowning.

"Where are we?" she asked quietly, glancing around and forcing a bit of fear into her voice in case there were someone listening.

Snape pulled out his wand, brandishing it like a sword for a moment before casting lumos and brightening the area. He examined their surroundings for a moment, eyebrows cocked and wand at the ready, clearly on the lookout, being as careful as she was. After a moment, he relaxed slightly, satisfied for the moment.

"The where isn't important. We're meeting someone here, who'll take you both away to a safe house-"

"Now wait a moment!" Draco interrupted. "That wasn't part of the plan! I'm supposed to return, to run interference! How are you going to explain my absence to the others? It'll be obvious that we escaped and you helped!"

Snape shook his head. "No, it's part of my plan. Which, for the record, is much better than yours. Your leaving with her is the only way to explain how she got away."

Neomi perked up a little, curious. "What is the plan, then, Professor?"

Snape turned to her, smiling ever so slightly. "The plan is, we will meet the contact, who will take you to the safe house. When they arrive, they will knock me out, and I will be found by the Death Eaters later, after Lucius has awakened. He will tell them that Draco accosted him and took his wand, which, of course, he did. I will inform them that the Lucius who left with me must have been Draco, using a Polyuice Potion. While we were apparating, he hijacked us and brought us here, then knocked me out and took off with you."

"So you're completely uninvolved, it was all my idea? What makes you think they'll buy that?" Draco asked angrily. He was fuming at Snape's change of plan.

"The fact that Narcissa has informed them that she thinks you are plotting something. She told the Dark Lord that someone else should be given watch over her because she thought you were going to take her and make a break for it. It's why you've been escorted to the main room for her sessions the past week, they thought you would try to take off with her."

Neomi arched her eyebrows. "But, do they think Draco is smart enough to pull it off on his own? I mean, no offense, Dray, but I don't think You Know Who thinks too highly of you."

Draco scowled at her, the expression reminding her far too much of what she was running from on Lucius' face. She flinched a little at it before he softened it.

Snape smiled ever so slightly, a tinge of sarcasm on his face. "That, Neomi, is precisely why before I went down to the basement to get you, I planted some evidence implying that you weren't acting alone. According to the letters they'll find, you're working with the Order. Draco informed them of the prophecy, then they worked with him to make plans to help you escape."

"How will that be convincing?" Draco asked, clearly skeptical.

"The letters are written in Minerva McGonagall's hand," he answered. "The Dark Lord will recognize it as such, and he'll believe it. She is certainly more than intelligent enough to come up with this plan. Thanks to my apparent preference for him in school, no one will contest that Draco is good enough at Potions to have brewed the Polyjuice."

Neomi's eyes widened in surprise. "How did you manage to copy Professor McGonagall's handwriting? She has the most pinched, loopy scribble I've ever seen."

Draco smiled a little. "He didn't copy it. It's really from Professor McGonagall. He told her the truth about what happened last term, and she believed him. He _cried_," he said, the faintest bit of mocking in his tone. Snape growled at him ever so slightly.

Neomi looked back and forth between the two. She was surprised that McGonagall would believe Snape, whether it had been the truth or not. The man was a master at lying.

As if he had heard the thought, Snape turned to her, a sad little smile on his face. "Whenever I lied to one side or the other, I was always cold. Aloof. I have never been able to lie with emotion. Whenever I show a glimpse of my soul, I am telling the truth. Minerva has known me long enough to know that."

Neomi nodded. It made sense. Whenever he'd been at the Manor, he'd never shown even the faintest bit of emotion. He was always like stone, a cold, unfeeling figure, much like Voldemort was when things were going his way. She'd always thought that it was why the Dark Lord was so willing to trust Snape, even before he'd killed Dumbledore. Snape reminded him of himself. They both had muggle blood in their veins, muggle blood they were ashamed of and hid from the world. They were both cold and calculating, and they both kept their weaknesses from the world. Neomi knew there was something Snape hid from them, something he felt like he couldn't share. Like he was ashamed or embarrassed to be human.

At the sound of leaves cracking, the three of them went silent, looking around carefully. Draco lurched, and Neomi realized that about an hour had passed. He fell to his knees on the forest floor, holding his stomach. The long, blonde hair began to pull back into his skull and his face thinned out. His face warped and he grew thinner, groaning all the while. Neomi fought the urge to throw up or scream. Just as the form rose from the ground, and Draco's face smiled back at her, the light in the clearing grew stronger.

When she looked up, Neomi found herself meeting the gaze Professor Remus Lupin.


	7. Snape's Orders

Professor Lupin eyed the group warily, his wand at the ready, pointed directly at Snape. He didn't look very happy to be the one sent to the woods to get them.

"Severus," he said simply, staring the man down as if daring him to move.

"Remus," Snape returned, lowering his wand, the age old sign of 'I don't want any trouble.' Neomi fought the urge to laugh. It wasn't truly funny, but she found the awkwardness of it all hilarious. Here they were, running from the Dark Lord, and these two were fighting for control of the situation, as if one or the other would attack.

"Would you mind telling me why, in the middle of the night, I have been summoned to meet you here, in the middle of nowhere, with nothing in the way of explanation? Had it been anyone but Minerva who'd asked, I wouldn't have come. But, she said it was urgent, and so here I am. Now, explain, before I decide to take your head off."

Snape sighed impatiently, eliciting a slight jump from Lupin. This time, Neomi did laugh, and Lupin's gaze sharply moved to her. She snickered again at his intense expression. Snape and Draco each turned to look at her disapprovingly.

"What?" she asked, still snickering at the pair. "It's funny!"

Snape's expression grew more intense, and Draco just shook his head at her. She tried to stop laughing, forcing a serious expression on her face. It lasted all of a second before she dissolved into giggles once again.

Snape arched a brow, sighing before turning back to Lupin.

"We need your help with an escape in progress," he said. "The Dark Lord has been keeping a prisoner-"

"Who am I here to escort?" Lupin asked simply, his expression growing interested, but still angry.

Snape gestured to Neomi. "I believe you should remember teaching the younger Malfoy sibling," he said in answer.

Lupin glanced to her before turning his gaze back to Snape.

"Certainly," he said, "She was the only Slytherin who seemed to care for my lesson. But, why, exactly, is it so important that we take her?"

"I take it that Minerva did not explain the situation?" Snape asked.

"She only told me that I would be meeting in the woods to take someone to a safe house. Not who, not why, nothing. So, if you would be so kind as to explain, I would greatly appreciate it," Lupin responded icily. Neomi almost shuddered. Lupin was not happy, and he did not trust them.

"Well, perhaps if you would allow me to finish explaining, we could get on with it," Snape responded, his voice just as cold. Lupin gestured impatiently, as if Snape were the one taking his time. "Miss Malfoy has been locked down in the basement of Malfoy Manor, on the Dark Lord's orders. There is, as there is at the center of everything that makes the Dark Lord act rashly, a prophecy. Apparently, Neomi's allegiance in this war will be something of a deciding factor. So, he has been holding her there, using the Crutiatus curse, among other methods, to try and… sway her."

Lupin nodded. "And so you've been plotting to get her out, and now I'm supposed to take her to the safe house. Except I don't see why we're supposed to believe you," he said.

Neomi tapped Lupin on the shoulder, and he turned to look at her. At first, his expression was hard, but it softened after a moment when he noticed the wounds on her arms. He took her hand and pulled her arm straight, looking over the words carved there. Snape's eyes widened, as did Draco's. She'd tried really hard to keep them from noticing, not wanting them to take time out of the escape to worry about it, in case they were followed.

"Professor Lupin-"

"Just Remus, now, Neomi. I haven't been your professor for some time now," Lupin said softly.

"Remus, then, I… I understand why you don't trust Professor Snape, and even Draco, but… but you have to believe, they're not the bad guys. Not really. Professor Snape is just… I mean, he's had to be. And so has Draco. Snape to help you guys, and follow Professor Dumbledore's orders. And Draco to protect me. But, we really don't have time to talk about it now. So, can you please just… trust Professor McGonagall's judgement, and just take us? Because every second we're here is another second they can find us. I mean, they can't follow our Apparation path, but… I mean, it's better to be on the safe side, right? So we should just go."

Lupin started to argue, but he glanced back at her arms, and sighed. "Agreed," he said. He looked back to Snape. "You understand, you are not permitted to come with."

Snape nodded. "Of course. Besides, the plan is for me to stay behind… unconscious. They have to believe that Draco and Neomi escaped me, you see. To maintain my position. It is imperative that I not be found out."

Lupin arched a brow. "You mean to tell me that you want me to knock you out? My, this is a well-thought out plan, isn't it?"

Snape grimaced at the pleasure in Lupin's voice. "Yes, well. And you are, of course, aware that Minerva will be meeting you there. She cannot remain at Hogwarts while she is suspected of being involved."

Lupin nodded. "Yes, she'd told me that she was resigning. But why on Earth would you involve her, other than to get in contact with the Order? I would think, if you're truly 'not the bad guy,' that is, that you'd want her there as protection for the students."

Snape nodded again, a little reluctantly. "It was my original idea to have the correspondence be between Draco and yourself, or the Weasleys, but she thought it wouldn't be believable. It was at her insistence that I agreed to her involvement," he answered. Lupin nodded, satisfied.

"Well, then, I suppose I'll be seeing her shortly. Now then, about this matter of making you unconscious…"

Snape waved his hand impatiently. "Yes, yes, we'll get to that. But, before that, I would like to go over a few things with Neomi and Draco." Lupin nodded in agreement and Snape turned to them.

"Neomi, I know you're likely to hate hearing it," he started reluctantly, "but you must remain indoors at all times. You're free of the Dark Lord, but you aren't free. You need to stay in the safe house at all times. You must only leave if there comes a time that it is no longer safe, and then you must go with whomever it is from the Order who is staying with you, be it Remus, Professor McGonagall, one of the Weasleys, anyone. Understood?"

Neomi nodded eagerly. "I could care less. It'll be nice just to be able to look out a window. Not to mention, I highly doubt any of the Order will be torturing me," she said simply, rubbing her arm.

Snape nodded. "That goes for you as well, Mr. Malfoy. You must remain in the safe house. IF you are caught, Neomi will be as well."

Draco scowled, but he nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Not surprising. But I wish I could have fought."

Snape shook his head. "No, you must remain with your sister. You are her last line of protection. If the safe house is found and attacked, you must take her away from there, take her somewhere new, that they will not expect."

Draco nodded again, this time a little more agreeably.

"Secondly, I want you both to practice defensive spells. Minerva will have several books with her to study. Practice together, and practice everything. If you are attacked, I want to know you can defend yourselves." They nodded, and he turned back to Lupin. "If you are with them, I would appreciate your assistance with this matter. I know your area of expertise is dark creatures, but you should still be able to offer some guidance. If not, please ask whoever is with them to help in any way possible." Lupin nodded in agreement. With that, Snape sighed.

"Alright, then, Remus. Hit me."


	8. The Best Meat Pie I Ever Ate

Neomi watched with wide eyes as Snape fell to the forest floor. Lupin's eyes danced with pleasure at the jinx. She and Draco exchanged a worried look. To be completely honest, she wasn't so sure that Lupin was a safe bet. He had a good bit of suppressed anger towards Snape, and for good reason. But, looking at him now, she got the feeling that he was enjoying this more than he should. Apparently, Draco agreed.

"Prof-ah, Remus, perhaps we should leave now?" he asked, motioning at the forest around them.

Lupin's expression grew calmer, and he held out a hand. "Of course," he answered. "Neomi, take my hand. Draco, take hers. I'll Apparate the three of us, easier that way. I know where we're going."

Neomi hesitated a little before placing her left hand in his. Anyone who got that much enjoyment out of knocking another person unconscious was at least a little unhinged. But, time was of the essence, and they needed to leave. Draco took her right hand, giving it a small squeeze of encouragement.

"Everything's gonna be alright now, Mi," he said, just before Lupin Apparated them away.

When they stopped, her mouth dropped and her eyes grew wide. Their destination was a beautiful beach house, obviously smaller than the Manor, but not too small. Quaint. It reminded her of the cottage she had lived in with her mother. Those memories were faint, but they were happy. Just looking at the house made her feel better. She gave Lupin a hopeful look.

"Is this where we are staying?" she asked hopefully. When he nodded, she almost jumped. It seemed too perfect. After years of being neglected under the best of circumstances and tortured under the worst, especially lately, she couldn't believe that she was free.

"It's not over yet, Neomi," Lupin said, attempting to ground her in reality. He didn't want her to get too excited. The war was still raging, and she was far from safe. She nodded in response but didn't lose the elated look on her face. He sighed. "Let's get inside and perhaps you can explain what's going on?"

Neomi and Draco nodded, following Lupin into the beach house. When she saw the interior, she sighed happily. It was soft and cozy, with simple, charming décor that reflected the location. There was a chair in the main room that looked almost exactly like her mother's rocking chair.

At a sudden gasp, she turned, meeting eyes with Professor McGonagall, who started for her.

McGonagall grabbed Neomi's hands softly and pulled them up, examining her arms. "Neomi, child, whatever have they done to you…" she murmured, concern in her eyes. She looked up at Neomi's face. "When was the last time you ate?"

Neomi blushed, though she didn't quite understand why the idea that she was ill fed was embarrassing. It wasn't like it was her fault. She shrugged. "I'm not sure. Living in the basement… It was kind of hard to know how much time was passing. After a while… you just… stop feeling hungry." Draco glared at nothing, staring off into space. She knew that he blamed himself for her lack of food. He hadn't been able to sneak her food as often as he should have, as far as he was concerned. Especially lately.

McGongall just pursed her lips together, her usual expression when she was displeased. "Well, then, I'd say the talking can wait. We need to get some food in you." She placed her hands on Neomi's shoulders, leading her to the kitchen. Lupin and Draco followed. The two arched a brow at the scent of meat pies coming from the oven.

"I take it you were prepared for this circumstance?" Lupin asked dryly, and McGonagall gave him a stern look.

"I can hardly be considered foolish for preparing a meal for the dear girl, considering that she has, in fact, not been fed in days," she bit back. Draco and Neomi looked at each other, smirking and fighting the urge to laugh. McGonagall waved her way, and the stove opened and two pies flew out, cooling before they landed on the table. She looked at the Malfoys, her expression softening. "Sit. Eat. You both look like you need it."

Neomi sat down and immediately started devouring the pie. She wondered if McGonagall had known that meat pies were her favorite, or if it was just a coincidence. Either way, it was seasoned perfectly, and the crust was just the right amount of flaky. She almost moaned in delight. Draco gave her a smile, knowing how much she was enjoying the meal. When he took a bite, his eyes rolled back in his head. Ever since the Manor had become Voldemort's base, and ever since the Malfoy family had been on his bad side, he hadn't been getting much in the way of decent food, either. His last meal had been little more than chunks of meat in a thin broth, prepared by one of the Dark Lord's grunts, who was obviously not used to working in the kitchen. Seemed the only ones getting decent meals in the house were Voldemort and, on occasion, Bellatrix. As such, the pie was quite the treat for both siblings.

As the two sat in silence, eating, McGonagall and Lupin moved into the main room of the house. Neomi could hear the faintest traces of conversation, and gathered that McGonagall was filing Lupin in on what she knew about the situation. She wasn't completely sure what Snape had told McGonagall, but she was hoping he'd told her enough that she wouldn't have to talk about it too much. Neomi had been living it for months, years even. Having to talk about it, live through it, explain her life to these people, would probably be more than she could bear right now.

Apparently, Draco agreed. "Hope McGonagall knows everything," he said, echoing her thoughts. For what was the millionth time since they'd become siblings, Neomi wondered if Draco could read her mind. "I don't really want to talk about it, and I hardly think you would."

"I suspect that's why McGonagall gave us the food and took him in there to talk," she replied before taking her last bite of the pie. She looked down at it sadly. She hadn't really eaten much. It'd been so long since she'd had a decent meal, her stomach had shrunk. She'd barely eaten a fourth of the pie. She shoved it away, sighing. "I wish I could eat more," she said forlornly.

Draco gave her a small smile. "I'm sure you'll be able to eat more as you get used to it," he said encouragingly. She nodded.

"I hope so. Especially if they're going to keep feeding us like this. Who would have thought Professor McGonagall knew how to cook so well?" She laughed a little. Of all the things she'd have guessed about the Professor if asked, this was probably one of the last. McGonagall didn't really strike one as the domestic type.

Draco laughed, too, partially out of agreement, and also partially because it was so nice to hear Neomi laughing again. Really laughing, not a sarcastic snicker like what she would give the Death Eaters during her sessions. "Definitely not me. And yet, here we are, and she apparently cooked this."

"It's probably the best meat pie I've ever had," she said. It might not actually be, but it was certainly the best one she remembered.

With that in mind, she smiled and pulled the pie back to her. "Maybe just a couple more bites," she said, and Draco smiled. It was good to see her being herself. She took another bite of the pie, listening to the conversation in the other room. They were still talking, so she figured she had a bit longer before she had to talk about it. She decided to enjoy the time while she could.


	9. A Real Bed

As Remus listened to what Minerva knew of Neomi's situation, he scowled. He hadn't seen the girl in years, not since he'd been her professor, but he remembered her as being a quiet girl, shy, and having a gentle nature. Whenever one of her classmates had been rude, or disruptive, she had always seemed offended by their attitude, but too afraid to say anything. He'd always assumed she'd been placed in Slytherin for her blood, and perhaps for her brains, for she'd displayed a fair amount of cunning when necessary. But, it seemed that he'd misjudged her, and that she'd have made a fine Gryffindor, as well. If her life at Malfoy Manor, particularly in the last few months, had been half as bad as what Minerva claimed, the girl had a core of steel.

"Apparently, the child is something of a sass, as well," Minerva said. "Severus informed me that she has recently been taunting the Death Eaters, and quite successfully."

He leaned forward slightly. "Why would she do that, though? Why would she purposefully anger them? It doesn't seem like there would be any benefit to it."

"She wanted it to be over," a voice called, and the pair turned to see Draco in the doorway, his face drawn and tired. "She wanted them to lose control. To end it."

Lupin's brow quirked in surprise. It took an interesting character, to tempt those who held your life in their hands. To try and make them take it.

"That explains Severus' sense of urgency," Minerva said, her eyes wide. He hadn't told her that detail, if he'd even known.

Draco nodded, and he rubbed his head a little. "So, could we not talk to her about this? At least tonight? She's exhausted, and I don't think she should have to relive all that until she's had time to rest."

Lupin and Minerva each nodded. "Of course," she said gently, "we wouldn't dream of asking her to talk about any of it now." She heard a faint snore from the kitchen, and smiled. "Already asleep, is she?"

Draco nodded. "She ate as much of the pie as she could stomach, and then she passed out. I was going to ask, what room is she supposed to stay in? So I can take her to it and let her sleep in a bed? She hasn't since…" He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence, but it was unnecessary. They all knew she hadn't had a bed since the night she'd arrived home from Hogwarts the previous year.

"It's a lot for anyone to go through, particularly a fifteen year old girl," Lupin said, sadness in his voice. Harry had been through a lot, but the closest he'd come to torture was dueling the Dark Lord, and those encounters had been short compared to the sessions Neomi had sat through. According to Severus, the shortest ones were a couple of hours, and they usually lasted closer to four.

Silence filled the room for a moment as the three of them thought on that, that Neomi was still essentially a child. Draco's head fell a little as shame welled in his chest, shame that he couldn't better protect his sister. Minerva saw it, and her lips thinned. "Don't you start that, Draco Malfoy, don't you dare start to blame yourself for this. You have been taking care of her since before you were old enough to take care of yourself, and this is not your fault. You are not going to help her any by sitting around, moping because you think you failed her. You did what you could, kept her fed and stayed with her. She's here now, and she's safe."

Minerva stood abruptly, and Draco watched her through wide, somewhat afraid eyes. He hadn't seen her snap at him like this since she'd given him and Harry's group detention for being out past their bedtime first year. "Now, go get her up, and I'll take you to her room, so you can put her to bed and that poor child can get a decent night's sleep." She walked into the kitchen, Draco just behind, and waited.

"Mi, wake up for a second," Draco whispered, his hand on her shoulder, shaking lightly.

Neomi came awake violently, waving her arms like she would hit the person waking her. Her eyes were cloudy with sleep, but afraid, just one more example of how traumatic her life had become of late. She shouted something unintelligible, and sat up, slapping Draco across the cheek. She went to strike again, still half asleep, but he caught her hand.

"Neomi, relax, it's me. It's Draco. You're not in the basement anymore. You're safe."

Her eyes cleared a little, and she relaxed her arms. "Dray? I… Oh, I'm so sorry!" Draco's cheek was a nice, bright red color where she'd struck him. She blushed, and looked around. "Where… where are…" Her eyes light up a little in recognition. "We escaped," she said lamely, and he nodded. "And I hit you. Because you were trying to wake me up." He nodded again, and her blush deepened. "I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it, Mi." Draco assured her. "I was just trying to get you up so we could get you to a bed."

At the word 'bed,' Neomi's eyes sparked. "Bed? Like, with a headboard and a mattress and blankets?" She supposed it was silly to be so excited about that prospect, given that they'd been brought to a safe _house_, but she'd been sleeping upright, on a rather uncomfortable bench, for as far back as her memory was willing to go at that moment. A bed seemed like a luxury.

Minerva smiled. "Yes, child. Why, it'll even have pillows," she teased, trying to mask the horror that a girl could be so excited about something as simple as sleeping in a bed. It was hard to look at Neomi, at her bruised and scarred arms, at her sad, sunken eyes, and to think about how she had come to be that way.

Neomi stood up carefully, her hand on the table. She was pretty worn out from the escape, and from the months before. Draco wrapped his arm around her waist when she started to fall. "I've got you, Mi." He looked to Minerva. "Let's get her to bed, shall we?"

McGonagall nodded, and led Draco and Neomi up the stairs, to a small but quaint bedroom. Not wasting any time, Draco carried her in and sat her on the chest at the foot of the bed to pull the covers back for her. She climbed in a moment later, not bothering to ask for fresh clothes or anything. She was asleep before her head hit the pillows.


End file.
